In Fair Shuggazoom
by Sohanna
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity  in fair Shuggazoom, where we lay our scene  from anceint blood to new mutany, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. A tragic love story starting with a play from another planet: Romeo and Juliet.
1. Chapter 1

**Just so you know, none of the characters in this story belong to me at all. Alistair, Noah, Seth, and several others mentioned belong to AmythistAngel07. Antauri and Gibson belong to Ciro Nieli. Romeo and Juliet belongs to William Shakespeare.**

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"In fair Verona…" Alistair ran his fingers down the page. He was entirely tempted to throw the book across the room. But hey, homework came before comfort. Something his father had taught him.

His father had also enforced appreciation for the arts. Shakespearean arts, to be specific.

Alistair stared at the book. It was labeled "No Fear Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet." On the left page was the original script. The other side had a modern translation.

He opened to some random page, taking particular interest in the bottom of the page.

He decided that reading the passage aloud would help him.

"Why then… o brawling love, o loving hate, o anything of nothing fist create."

He huffed and tossed the book back onto his bed and looked up towards his window. The early morning sky was turning a dull gray.

"O heavy lightness, serious vanity, misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms."

He hated Shakespeare.

The black monkey rose, pulling his dress shirt lower leaving it un-tucked. He wore black dress pants and a white button up shirt. His new school required a uniform.

As if home schooling wasn't bad enough.

The door swung open.

Alistair looked over to his opened door. One of his father's servants stood in the doorway.

"Sir Alistair, you'll be late for school."

Alistair didn't really want to go to this new school. Father said he wasn't disciplined enough at home school. So, what was the next thing down?

Preparatory high school. Senior year. The expectations would be multiplied tenfold. Although Alistair did well in home school, his father did not like the "scum" he was consorting with, nor where they met. The West Beach, probably the most treacherous, leach-filled place there was, but he liked it there, with his friends, Noah and Seth. Noah was not only his closest friend, but his second cousin. Seth was just some rich bastard who'd struck oil in the middle of the lake. That, and his parents were friends of Alistair's parents. However not as close of friends as Seth and Alistair, due to their mutual relationship with the Gibsons.

Ah yes. Gibson Industries. The owner, Harold Gibson, was the one that ran the electric companies supplying light to the people who needed it.

And it was Alistair's only hate.

It wasn't that he didn't like the Gibsons, but his father, Antauri Holland, was the main provider of fuel to the entirety of Shuggazoom, and there was an ancient grudge that kinda just passed down from generation to generation. Alistair believed it skipped a generation in his family. He could care less. He didn't like the grudge that they'd held. He wasn't even sure why the grudge was still going on. His father never really gave him a straightforward answer. Something along the lines of 'ancient grudge and death.'

"The Gibsons claimed that they were framed for something they didn't do: raping and killing the Hollands' oldest, dearest daughter," Noah had said, strolling along the banks of the beach. "It was, like, a hundred years ago."

"Well, did they do it?" Alistair asked, hoping to find a base to his hate.

Noah laughed.

"The Hollands' daughter died of illness. The rape story was made up, but it's unknown whether or not it was just a sickness or if she was really poisoned."

Alistair didn't feel any better.

But Alistair was going to school. Away from home. Perhaps he could escape the grudge. Being able to leave his weapons at home was a nice idea, but he would eventually need to smuggle them into school somehow. Who knew how many Gibsons were there?

He wandered across the massive front lawn, nonchalantly making a confusing, swirled path to his car (a Mustang).

"Alistair."

The young robot monkey looked up, prepared to use his book-stuffed backpack as a club at any sign of violence.

But it was only his father. His piercing golden eyes bored into the young man mindlessly. Alistair had gotten used to the stare. He'd even perfected his own version of it. It usually got him his way, as it had his father.

This was the look he pulled out now, hoping to show his father that he was perfectly fine.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"You aren't going to the shore today are you?" Antauri asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's crawling with Gibsons."

"I got guns in my secret compartment," Alistair said confidently. "Bullet-proof vest, too. Not like I'll use it."

Antauri's brow furrowed.

"Alright, then." He looked away somewhat, still keeping a wary eye on his son. "But please, remember I don't like it when you go there."

Alistair raised his palms, letting go of his backpack and sending a rather flippant message; "Leave me alone. You don't own me."

Though not said aloud, the message was sent clearly. A flicker of rage entered the elder's eye and Alistair was already in his car, punching the gas. The tires screamed in agony as he rolled out. Smoke flew into the air behind the elegant car as Alistair raced to school as though his life depended on it.

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**Alright. *ducks behind bomb shelter* You may pelt me now. I'm ready.**


	2. Sad Hours Seem Long

***clears throat loudly* Not dead...**

**I own no characters.**

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It was a typical preparatory high school. Fluorescent lighting, nerds, non-nerds that hated being there, everyone from up to down. If anything, being in a preparatory high school was going to increase whatever atmosphere was being let off.

Alistair was being a typical new kid, carrying his backpack everywhere, not sure exactly what to bring, and also carrying a map of the school and his locker combination.

Students in white, scarlet, and maroon filled the hallways. Khaki and black pants littered the area. Several male robot monkeys, muscular and cocky, looked at Alistair standing against the doorpost to the office and immediately shot a dirty word or two. Alistair replied simply and calmly. He flipped his hand up, the middle finger raised like a flag and hidden behind his body for only the jocks to see.

A group of thin boys with glasses walked by, giving him a nervous smile and a hi. Alistair only nodded to acknowledge them. People called him too much like his father, so serious and stupid. But he wasn't. Father would smile for a picture, for his political friends, and frown upon all else. Alistair only smiled for his little brother, Andre. Andre was just a baby, and probably the cutest kid Alistair knew. No, he was the cutest kid Alistair knew.

"Mr. Holland?"

Alistair turned, looking into the office.

Then it happened. A beautiful girl, appearing a senior, walked by. She caught Alistair's eye like a diamond. He looked at her with the stupidest look of awe on his face.

The girl, with golden-brown fur and black eyes gave him a bored look, and looked away, walking towards her next class.

Alistair's eyes followed her until she was out of sight.

The next student walking by was a boy. Alistair caught him by the arm.

"Hey," Alistair muttered, "who's the fair maiden with golden fur and ebony eyes?"

The boy, an average looking boy, smiled.

"Oh. You've seen Jessica, haven't you?"

"Jessica? That's her name?" Alistair asked. He looked back down the hallway after the beautiful woman. "She's gorgeous. I must get her phone number."

Alistair began to walk down the hallway.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" The boy grabbed Alistair by the shoulder and sighed. Alistair looked, annoyed, at the boy. The boy rolled his eyes. "You're obviously new here. I'll have you know that Jessica refuses to love anyone, and so far she's shown no giving in."

Alistair frowned and looked back after the girl who now owned his affections.

"Why not?" he snapped.

"No one knows. She's just a kinda boring person."

"She's gorgeous."

"Yeah, she is," the student said. "She knows it. Later dude."

Alistair stood, alone in the hallway. Thirty seconds until class began. His heart had just been dealt the most amazing blow he'd ever felt.

Third day, second hour came, and Alistair blankly stared into the classroom, still bearing a bullet in his chest. Drama.

Something clasped his arm, and he jolted, turning, only to meet a familiar, innocent smile.

"Hey, cuz! Good morning!" Noah cried.

"Is it that early?" Alistair asked, his weary eyes fading deeper.

"It's only nine," Noah said flatly.

"What're you doing here?" Alistair asked.

"My parents got the idea from yours." He slid into a chair kicking his legs up onto the desk. "So they shipped me here to keep you company."

"That was nice of them," Alistair said, blatantly. He slid into the chair in front of Noah.

Noah noted the groaning tone in Alistair's voice.

"What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?" Noah asked, coyly.

Alistair scowled at the reference Noah was using, but played along.

"Not having that which, having, makes them short."

"In love?"

"Out."

"Of love?"

"Out of her favor where I am in love!" Alistair snapped, as if he actually meant it. The sound silenced the few students in the class room.

"Seriously? You like a girl?" Noah asked, curiously. He chuckled dryly. "I thought that was impossible."

"News flash!" Alistair said, rather loudly.

"Alistair! Noah!"

The black monkey snapped his head towards the teacher, standing not two feet away from his desk. He stuttered stupidly, trying to find an explanation for his actions.

"I see you two are rehearsing Romeo and Juliet," she said.

She slapped something down on Alistair's desk, making him jump at the loud thunk. Noah got one two.

"I hope you like staying after school for two hours every other day, and sometimes on Saturdays."

Alistair stared at the horrid thing on his desk. At first he thought it to be a massive book of detention slips, but, looking again he noticed the label.

Romeo and Juliet play. In elegant teacher-script on top were written two words. "Romeo Montague."

He looked over at Noah.

"What do you think of that cuz?" he said, holding up his book. "I got Benvolio!"

Alistair bolted up, almost knocking the desk over.

"No, Mrs. Fosslebottom, you don't understand! I'm not Romeo!"

"You are now! You are lucky, too. Many boys want that part."

Noah stood.

"Why?"

The teacher rolled her eyes.

"Many beautiful women playing Juliet, I suppose," she said. "But who am I to know what goes on in a young man's mind."

Alistair paused for a moment, glancing only for a moment at glowing golden fur entering the room.

"Like who?"

"Edith, Rosa, Elise, even Jessica."

Alistair smiled his most adorable smile. She same smile his dad used to sell a new deal.

"I'm in," he said, calmly.

The bell broke the quiet hum of students talking about plans they had after class or school, or maybe how the biology homework was ridiculous. All the students standing, including Alistair, sat quickly and calmly.

The plump greenish robot monkey made her way to the front. Alistair flipped through the play write. Why were all of Romeo's lines so long? He glanced across the room. Jessica sat beautifully, her golden fur shining in the sunlight. She too was flipping through the book. However, hers didn't have anything written on the front. She didn't have the part yet.

"Alright. Who are we missing today?"

"Mary," one girl chimed. She rolled her eyes. "I guess she thought she needed a day off."

A few other girls chuckled. Alistair noticed Jessica's cheek twitch with a smile.

"Very well," the teacher muttered, somewhat annoyed. She hit a few keys on her computer. "Miss Mary is absent due to an occasion her parents have."

The girl huffed.

"'Course. Rich kids. Think they get whatever they want," she muttered. Alistair cleared his throat loudly. The girl seemed to notice what he was referring to.

"As you all know, the Romeo and Juliet play is coming soon. May I introduce our Romeo."

Alistair numbly lifted his hand, then dropped it. Several other boys seemed slightly irritated. The girl seemed to have confirmed her beliefs that rich kids get everything, including lead roles you're not supposed to get.

Alistair ruffled the fur on his neck. The teacher began to pass out other scripts. Noah was flipping through his.

"Hey! I'm the only one of our little posse that survives!"

"Who has Mercutio?" Alistair asked, quietly.

"No one yet. Thus far, we're the only ones with parts."

Alistair glanced up at Noah.

"No wonder. You _are_Benvolio."

"And you're Romeo. Simple as that."

"I'm not so passionate as to go on these long rants. It's pointless."

Noah rolled his eyes.

"In that, you're like your dad," he said. "Straight and to the point. He doesn't like to be long and winded."

Alistair fought the urge to punch Noah.

"Don't you ever say that we're alike in any way," Alistair growled. "Not even that I _look_like him."

"I get it," Noah huffed. "Your dad's a jerk, yeah, yeah…"

"Boys!"

The two shot their heads up and stared, wide and innocent eyed at the teacher.

"Since you both are so… talkative today, would you like to act out a scene?"

"No, thanks," Alistair muttered, loud enough for the teacher to hear.

"That wasn't a question Alistair. Come up here, _now_. You too, Noah."

Both boys glanced at each other and headed, cautiously, up to the teacher's desk.

"Everyone turn to Act 1, Scene 1 in your books," the teacher instructed. "Boys, begin when Benvolio talks to Romeo about love and go all the way to the end of the scene."

Noah put on a half smile, almost perfectly replicating Benvolio's mood in the scene.

"Good morrow, cousin," he said, half perky.

"Is the day so young?" Alistair read aloud.

"Stop!" the teacher cried, striding to Alistair. "You need to not just read the part, but believe you're Romeo! Do what he would've done! Begin again."

"Good morrow, cousin," Noah repeated, exactly the same way he had before.

Alistair focused on the pain he felt when he'd first heard about Jessica not being into guys. He let it flow into his facial expressions and body language.

"Is the day so young?" he half moaned.

"But new struck nine," Noah said, pointing at the clock.

Alistair looked, as though curious, then sighed.

"Ay me…" he sighed. "Sad hours seem long…"

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**So. That's all. Please R&R. Oh yes, and as a little happy note: THE WRITING WILL GET BETTER. I promise.**


	3. Masquerade

**ATTENTION: This story is now being co-authored with AmythistAngel07. Cuz she keeps my lazy ass in line.**

**I own none of the characters.**

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The sound of the pounding bass hit Alistair's ears like rocks on a lover's window. He blinked, as if the action would make his ears feel better. The mask plastered to his face made his skin clammy, and he sweated enough to make lakes jealous. He glanced towards the dimly lit clock on the wall. He could only see it through brief flashes of colored light.

"C'mon, Alistair," someone called, promptly slapping him on the back. "Lighten up!"

"I can't!" he hollered over the loud music. He found the source of the yell: Seth, who had a girl on each arm. Alistair scowled. "How the hell did you get in anyway?"

Seth shrugged.

"I bribed the guard at the door," he said.

"Bribed the... Seth, that was a teacher!" Alistair said.

"So?"

Alistair resisted the urge to massage his temples. By all means, this had to be the worst, cut rate dance that he had ever been to in his life. He was used to the parties that his parents would take him to that would actually have very strict standards of protocol. White tie, black tie, casual business, he knew all of these terms. But regular teenagers in high school would have no idea what these certain codes were. He found it hard to lighten up because he was overdressed. When he saw on the invitations that it was an "evening ball" he thought they would follow the dress standards of such, and he had come in a completely souped up white tie suit. Upon looking around him, he found out most of the students weren't even wearing ties, and he had to completely desecrate his suit by taking out his tie and his vest and stuffing it in his car, and even then, his tailcoat looked completely ridiculous in comparison to the rest of the casual one-button coats around him.

As if his dress wasn't bad enough, the music was a hard rap that he had never been exposed to in his life, the kind that you couldn't understand what the artist was saying. And what was there to eat? No fruit or vegetables, no d'oeuvres. Simply overpriced nachos and candies that he never really cared for. At least the punch was nice, whatever type of it that it was. He had been sipping it throughout the entire course of the dance.

"Hey, look, it's that Jessica chick you were talking about!" Seth pointed behind his friend with a hand that was around the waist of one of the women.

Alistair's head immediately shot behind him to see the taupe colored female in all of her splendor. She was dressed in a gown that was a fiery red, and rather suggestive looking, at that. All it had were two swirling and crystal studded strips that made the outline of an hourglass to cover her torso, barely leaving anything of her bust to the imagination. The bottom of her gown was a simple satin and went down to the floor, though had a high slit up the right leg so that when she walked, her gartered thigh was easy to see.

Alistair put on the smoothest of smiles onto his face. He knew that he was masked, that Jessica could not recognize him, as she rarely interacted with him in the first place. He subconsciously straightened out his collar as he approached her.

"Hey there," he gleamed a freshly whitened smile at her. "I know you probably get this from a lot of guys, but I really _do_think that dress brings out your figure rather well. Prada de Jean."

Jessica's deep eyes blinked in a slow manner. "You recognize de Jean?"

"Who doesn't?" he gave another slick smile. "And a lady of your rather higher taste should be able to give a man a good dance, can't she?"

"Wow. Where have you been?" the girl's painted lips gave a slow smile. "You're obviously a lot more educated then the... Other, guys here." She parted her right leg from her dress and set it on top of the small table at their side, showing her garter completely. "Don't they say that smart men make good lovers?"

Alistair was slightly taken aback by this, and was happy that the mask would cover any blush across his face. This woman was acting like a whore! And while every nerve of him was excited at the actions, his inner self, his true heart, was immediately recognizing how shallow this girl really was, and in a psychological aspect, it completely turned him off.

But he should at least give her a chance. "Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that. I am no man of bodily manners. All I was asking for was a dance."

"You say that now..." Jessica breathed in a sigh. "But very well. A dance you shall get."

Alistair half grinned, wishing almost that he hadn't said anything because immediately she grabbed his wrist and literally _dragged_him to the dance floor. He listened to me music, silently praying it would switch from whatever sad excuse for music was on to something he could dance to.

And it did change.

To another pop song by that shitty singer Kesha. He scowled at no one in particular. The woman in front of him apparently knew exactly what to do. He hadn't realize that girls actually moved like that in real life. So, he was dumbstruck. The girl he'd originally thought was a beautiful, sensible woman was actually slutty. Or drunk, but either way. He didn't know how to dance. He just stood there in the middle of the room. He couldn't even look like a modern loser.

"What's wrong?" Jessica laughed. "You're legs aren't broke, are they?"

"No," Alistair replied, fully aware of how stupid he looked as he said it. He glanced over at Seth, praying, almost, for help. Seth scowled at him and mouthed something.

"Just move."

So Alistair attempted to copy what any other males on the dancefloor were doing. However, there were only three. The others were on the wall, too cool to dance. Being purely analytical, he looked at what Jessica was doing in the most analytical of lights that he could think of, though he felt his teenage eyes kept being drawn to her overly exposed breast. In the most critical of senses, all she was doing was holding her arms in the air, swinging her hips and slightly moving her feet to the beat. Around him, the others were doing the same, so he simply thought that he should follow suit. Rather awkwardly, he raised his fists in the air, next to his ears, and started to move his feet in the most masculine way possible.

And he felt completely ridiculous.

His arms dropped to his hips, but his feet kept moving. "Hey, hey, you're doing it!" Jessica tenderly slapped him with her palm in a flirtatious fashion. "You're getting it."

'_Really? Because I'm not dancing. I'm walking funny.' _If there was any other more awkward moment in Alistair's life, it had to be this one. He simply couldn't put it together how anything was working for him, and how he was at what was supposed to be a ball, and yet no one was dancing at all. The next song had to be the most awkward moments that he had ever been through, and he had kept praying it was over. Unfortunately for him, it was a seven minute dance remix of the song, so it felt like his humiliation lasted for twice as long as it should have. As soon as it was over, not even sparing Jessica another word, he promptly left the floor and felt like he needed to take a shower to rid himself of the embarrassment.

He promptly left the gym, and just felt like he was sick of everyone and everything around him. His Italian heels clanked against the lobby's tile floor to make it all the more dramatic before he burst his way through doors with rather large windows in front of them. Parked outside were beater cars, cheap limos, and then nicer vehicles that obviously belonged to the parents of said students. The chill of the night's wind nipped at his nose and he was tempted to simply drive away in his car, but he needed time to slow down. He looked to the sky above him.

Nighttime. How he loved the night, loved it like it was his willing muse waiting for him whenever he needed it. And tonight was an exceptionally cloudless one, and the moon, though only three quarters waxed, made soft shadows against everything in the parking lot. He turned to his right and circled the building, where he passed a teacher guarding the side entrance, and then made his way up metal stairs to the second story of the gym, which held the higher parts of the main gym, and at the end of it, branched off into classrooms that concerned health and fitness. Metal stairs led to a concrete balcony that students would use to circle the gym's rooms. All it was railed by was a metal ledge with paint that was already beginning to crackle.

Alistair looked up to the sky with a vain hope. He immediately recognized the constellation of Orion, gleaming with his three starred belt. "Oh, Orion," he said softly. "Might you take me away from this?" he muttered as he felt his hands glide across the stone cold railing.

"You could say that again."

The man's fur stood up on end when he heard a smooth, classic woman's voice emit from his left. Upon turning his gaze, he saw a girl, appearing his age, with a pure white swan that was worn over her neck. She had on a glittered and feathered mask, that matched the rest of her ballroom styled dress. The moonlight only dramatized what was practically the sight of a graceful swan. Only her tail and helmet revealed that her fur was a vibrant Egyptian blue, and her eyes, black as the night that graced her. One thing the male took to note was that she was dressed in the perfect example of what a ballroom occasion should look like.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alistair detected a certain accent in her voice, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "You probably wanted to be alone like me." Her gaze trailed to the attire he was wearing. "Ah, you wore a tailcoat? Hah, you made the same mistake I did. Stupid highschoolers don't know the difference between a ball and a tea party." French. That's what her accent was, by the way all of her t's sounded like z's and how her consonants were lazy. The woman made a small sigh to herself and silently made her way to the opposite side of the balcony.

"Yes," he said. "I didn't expect them to be blaring giant robots having sex through the speakers."

The young woman giggled a little.

"It does sound similar, doesn't it?" she muttered. She leaned forward, leaning her elbows, gloved in satin-like white, on the chipped bar. "Yes, I expected it to be slightly more stimulating than a normal high school day. The teachers aren't around, the students can be themselves. I should've known. Teenagers don't change between school and other school events, am I right?"

Alistair nodded, smiling slightly. The young woman stood erect instantly, dropping her hands to her sides.

"I suppose I'll have to call someone to take me home," she said. "Any of my friends is too drunk to take me home, so..."

"Hn," Alistair huffed. "So she _was_drunk."

"Who?"

"Oh, that... that Jessica girl," he said.

The swan-like woman quickly "hmphed."

"That slut wouldn't know an earring from a shoe," she hissed. She rested her hands on her hips almost cutely. "She struts around like she's something special..."

Alistair held back laughter, but he couldn't stop the smile coming to his face.

"What?" she snapped, folding her arms. "You don't agree with me?"

"No, I don't," he said. "However, to a degree, you're correct about the 'slut' thing. I fear she would have raped me had I stayed where I was for a mere minute more."

"Well, maybe, maybe not," the young woman looked to the ground. "I mean, I know I just called her that, but with high school girls, you really never know whether they actually do something or just say that they did. So... yeah." She nodded slightly to herself.

The young man was practically astounded. This was the first time that he had ever been around a girl that he could talk to like a real person. He wanted to say something, but didn't know how to present it to her, and his mouth continued to stay open as the white-clothed woman left the premises without another word. He was kicking himself that he didn't even get her name. In a desperate attempt to try and catch up with her, he rounded the left side of the balcony that she had left on, and saw that there was no sign of her. He ran down the stairs in a fluid fashion and completely disregarded the teacher at the side entrance that was keeping watch. He swung the door open with his hand and swiftly looked around the room for a girl with a big, white, and feathery dress.

It didn't take long for him to locate her, as she was standing at the concession stand that consisted of a few tables put together in a U shape. He swiftly came by her side and tapped her on the shoulder, which made the woman slightly gasp as she looked behind her.

"Sacreblu!" she exclaimed, but behind her mask, her gaze narrowed in a facetious manner once she knew who he was. "So you wanted to be alone and then... you magically follow me?"

"I just-" the male smacked his lips together. "I just wanted to know your name."

"You should know this out of anyone else _here_," the woman put her hands on her popped hip in a facetious manner. "At a masquerade, even a mediocre one, you _never_tell _anyone_who you are."

"Then..." Alistair scratched the back of his neck. He almost felt like he was being a creeper, seeking her out like this. But another part of him felt so drawn to her that he couldn't resist it. "Can I at least have a dance with you? People who overdress need to stick together, you know."

"Sorry, I don't dance," the Egyptian blue female muttered.

"I didn't mean dance like these idiots do - I mean _actually_dance. Obviously someone who knows what proper ballroom attire is would know how to ballroom dance herself."

"...Touche." She offered her hand, which appeared to be rather small and dainty. "Alright, you've won."

A genuine beam that was worthy of the sun then emitted from Alistair's face as he took his hand in hers.

"Where have all the good men gone? And where are all the gods?" the man's expression slightly furrowed as he heard a type of music in the background that sounded like disco, and a woman who sang with an energetic, slightly gravelly voice. "Where's the street-wise Hercules, to fight the rising odds?" From pure memory, when they got to the main dance floor, his hand loped around what he found to be a very thin waist, and he felt her cool grasp through the cloth on his shoulder. "Isn't there a white knight, upon a fiery steed? Late at night, I toss and turn, and dream of what I need..."

"I NEED A HERO." The chorus suddenly blasted, and Alistair felt the girl lurch into motion from the beat. She obviously knew the song by heart when she energetically started to waltz and spin him around the room. "I'm holding out for a hero until the end of the night! Well he's got to be strong, and he's got to be fast, and he's got to be fresh from the fight!" He immediately recognized the small kicks that she was giving with her knees, and the straight position that she had her hands in. He was caught off guard when she first started, but now, the male's part of the dance kicked into him like a car switching gears. "I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero until the end of the night! Well he's got to be sure, and it's gotta be soon, and he's got to be larger than life!"

The tempo of the beat was fast and swift, and somehow the woman had found a way to adapt it to the traditional beat of the tango. At knowing what he was actually doing, Alistair found that the experience more than thrilled him: Dancing the footwork of passion with a beautiful stranger was far more exciting than vainly trying to impress a girl he wasn't sure about anymore. The dance only seemed to get more fiery as it went on, almost like the woman was trying to outshine him in some sort of challenge that he had faced himself with. He never wanted it to end, despite the fact that he could feel himself sweating beneath his clothes.

"Hey! SCREW OFF." At the hearing of the words, the entire room of conversing teenagers suddenly went silent as the sound of smashing china ensued. Though he wanted to ignore it, and obviously the woman he was dancing with did so, Alistair still looked over her shoulder to see what the commotion was all about.

He inwardly cursed a thousand words. Noah, of all people, had taken off his sports coat and tie, and was pointing his finger at some husky man in front of him. The man was almost as big in stature as Alistair's cousin was, and had pine green fur and ebony eyes. The crack of china was a dish of chili that had been thrown at the green man, apparent by the stains on his shirt, and had clashed onto the floor beneath him.

"Son of a bitch! Is THAT how you want to play it?" the green man's voice was deep and sounded like a roaring lion. He lunged towards the golden simian and grasped his collar, threatening to choke him.

"FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT." The student body cheered them on.

"Shit," Alistair hissed. Forgetting about the dance, he ran towards the fight, leaving the swan-like woman standing alone. She scowled after him, but he took no notice. Alistair quickly shoved his elbow into the giant green monkey's kidney. The monkey very nearly fell over because of the unexpected attack and dropped Noah. He quickly spun and grabbed Alistair's collar.

"What 'choo doin', little man?" he demanded. Alistair said nothing, but quickly raised his knee to the other monkeys "family jewels," hitting them as hard as he could. When the monkey doubled over, he kneed him in the ribs. Once the massive monkey seemed down, he turned to Noah.

"What the hell happened?"

Noah rubbed his neck where the green monkey had grabbed him.

"He's a friend of the Gibsons," he muttered, quietly. Alistair understood quickly what that meant and turned, making a b-line for the exit. Before he could get far, the green monkey grabbed his ankle from the place on the floor, sending Alistair into a face plant on the tile floor. It would have been excruciating had he never felt it before. Then the green monkey dragged him upward, lifting him off the floor and hanging him upside down. His coat-tails flailed and he looked very thoroughly like an idiot. Alistair swung his free foot and hit the green monkey in the eye, causing him to be dropped on his head again.

"Sunnuva...!" the green monkey moved to grab him again. Alistair was sure he was on the brink of a concussion. But a familiar white form jumped in front of the green monkey.

"Oscar, stop!" the Egyptian-blue monkey yelled. Alistair, seeing the green monkey hesitate for a mere fraction of a second, stood and darted out the door, ignoring the calls of his cousin and the white-clad female. He almost stepped on a few freshmen. He heard the tap of Noah's sneakers behind him, trying to keep up. Alistair ran right out of the school, through the parking lot, and into his car. Expecting his cousin on his heels to scold him for just running out, he revved the engine. It almost gave him a heart attack when his cousin actually _jumped_through the passenger side's open window and into the seat.

"Dude, punch it _now!_"

Alistair didn't argue at all. He hit the gas pedal with all his might, the squeal of rubber against the tar met his ears. As they peeled out of the lot, Noah sighed.

"Thought I was about to die in there, Man," he said. "Can't wait to see what Seth says tomorrow." He breathed in a sigh of relief and glanced at Alistair, when his eyes suddenly widened. "Dude, your mask!"

Alistair's eyes widened and he reached for his face. No more plaster.

"Oh, for shit's sake!" he hollered. "I am _sick_of this Gibson - Holland feud. I'm going to have a black eye tomorrow, my reputations shot, my dad is going to _murder me!_I'm not joking. He is going to bury me alive, and dance on my grave!"

"You're dad wouldn't..."

"I beg to differ!" Alistair shouted over at his cousin. "You just had to go and get into a fight, didn't you! Fucking HELL man! That will _never_happen again, you got me?"

Noah raised his hands in the air immediately, "Fine, fine!"

Alistair only sported a look of pure disdain on his face as he gripped the steering wheel like there was no tomorrow.

"And who was that girl you were dancing with, anyway?" the golden male crossed his arms. "You two were out there dancing like you were in some kind of competition."

"Probably a girl that I will _never_see again!" the onyx male snapped. "I actually started to have a good time with someone that I could actually _talk_to, had the _slightest_hope of making a friend, and _you completely ruined it_!" He ran his hand across his face in a hopeless fashion. "I- I just... can't believe it." He shook his head. "I- I felt like... she was-"

"And you're acting like it's the end of the world!" his cousin spat. "You can probably look her up in the yearbook!"

"She wouldn't tell me her name! It's a masquerade!"

"Then she obviously wasn't interested in you."

"I- I'd recognize her by her voice..." the man regretfully shook his head. "She had this... awesome voice, with the slightest traces of French in it."

"Then there's your problem solved." Noah put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat. "Just approach any girl with blue fur and black eyes and get her to say something to you. Then you'll know her when you find her."

"So what, I'm supposed to go hunting around the school for her?" Alistair grimaced. "Just shut up. You won't admit that you ruined it."

"I was defending for _your_sake!"

"And I never asked you to! Now shut up before I kick you out of my car!"

The ride continued in silence, Alistair's thoughts running amok.

* * *

**Hey there, hi there, ho there! I'm not dead! **

**A million thanks to AmythistAngel for not only allowing me to use her characters but for co-authoring and getting my ass off the couch.**

**Please review!**


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